


i'm addicted to you (and i make bad decisions)

by dingletragedy



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: (neither of those two last long though), Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, annoyed!Ben, jealous!callum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 05:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy
Summary: Callum clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Whit wanted to-,” he says weakly.“Save it, Callum,” he cuts in, and all of the hurt, the sadness he feels, shines through, “I don’t want to hear it.”Callum blinks, face changing from apologetic to angry in seconds. “Well you didn’t have to go out and find yourself a bloody boyfriend. That’s dramatic, even for you. ”(And yeah, it seems they’re hitting each other where it hurts now.)or, callum makes thing up to ben with a fantastic blow job





	i'm addicted to you (and i make bad decisions)

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon who wanted some more ballum smut, and there is a tiny bit of plot to along with it!!!
> 
> title form bad decision - two door cinema club

By the time Ben makes it to the door of Callum's flat, the grey skies overhead match his mood. Going up the stairs to the flat feels like walking to his death. Although, technically speaking, Callum is the one who was in the wrong, but reminding himself of the fact does nothing to calm Ben’s racing heart.

It’s been a few days since he last spoke to Callum, the younger man giving the other nothing but radio silence. Well, unless you count the very angry voicemail, or two, Ben had left Callum the previous day. He doesn’t exactly want to talk to Callum tonight either, he can’t be arsed with the hassle, but _Callum calls and Ben comes running_ , it seems. 

Callum freezes when he opens the door to Ben, and an unfamiliar kind of tension settles in the plane of his back. He doesn’t say anything – not when Ben closes the door behind himself, not when he passes him on the way to his bed, nor when he sits down on it and releases an annoyed huff in Callum’s direction. 

“You alright?” He says eventually, when it becomes obvious that Ben isn’t going to be the one to break the silence.

“What do you want, Callum?” Ben replies quietly; defeated. 

He feels like he's suffocating on the tension, has half a mind to get up and walk straight back out of here but Callum had needed to talk to him; _apparently._ He watches as Callum plonks down on the bed beside him, long legs stretched out. 

_He doesn’t look up once._

“Where were you last night?” Callum asks, and surprises himself with how curt he sounds. His voice projects none of the hopeful, tentative warmth he holds inside. Or the apologies he’d planned to spill. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Ben almost shouts, sounding exasperated. “Well, I was supposed to be spending the night with someone, but they cancelled, so I went out and got my kicks elsewhere,” Ben finishes cruelly, yet completely justified. 

Callum clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Whit wanted to-,” he says weakly. 

“Save it, Callum,” Ben cuts in, and all of the hurt, the sadness he feels, shines through, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Callum blinks, face changing from apologetic to angry in seconds. “Well you didn’t have to go out and find yourself a _bloody_ boyfriend. That’s dramatic, _even for you._ ” 

(And yeah, it seems they’re hitting each other where it hurts now.) 

Ben’s mind goes blank. He was drunk last night, sure, angry drunk even - but he’s pretty sure he’d remember gaining a _boyfriend._

“What are you - Callum? Cal,” he says, and makes sure to look him right in the eye, “I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Now it’s Callum’s turn to look shocked. “But - but I saw you, last night, getting out of the taxi - this - this guy hanging off your arm. You were all over each other.”

“So?”

“So - so you’re obviously sleeping with him, or something,” Callum says with such utter conviction, and for a second, Ben wants to laugh. But he’s rather annoyed, actually. 

Callum still looks very much concerned, though, confused above all, and for some reason, Ben can’t stand to have Callum think the worst of him for a second longer.

“Or something,” Ben says, aiming for reassuring, but ending up with bitterness. “Met him in town last night, got talking and you know - he brought me a drink, I invited him back to mine, got as far as the front door and I bottled it. Happy now?”

A sigh of relief escapes Callum’s lips then. He tries to hold it back, Ben can tell, and it comes along with a wave of tears that spring up in his eyes. 

“I just,” he starts, “I just didn’t - I don’t know,” he gestures between them, and somehow, Ben understands exactly what this means.

“You were jealous.”

“No! I - maybe?” 

“You were jealous,” Ben says once more. “Which is a joke really, considering you’re the one with a _wife_ and all that.”

And in Callum’s defence, he at least has the decency to look guilty. His hands are still twisted together, though, white knuckles and taut skin, and Ben can hardly stand it. 

He reaches down to cover them with one of his own, “Look I’m sorry, alright? - I didn’t set out to make you jealous Callum. But I was angry. _I am angry!_ You cancelled on me again - I just needed to go out and find something - _someone_ \- to help me forget you,” Ben admits, suddenly short of breath. “Didn’t work though.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you sleep with him?”

“I couldn’t. Felt like I was - I don’t know - cheating on you or something,” Ben tells him honestly, “How backwards is that?”

“I’m sorry, I really wish things could be different.” _They_ _can_ _be,_ Ben thinks . “I’m being selfish,” Callum voices, and moves closer to Ben’s warmth. “I just - I hate the thought of someone else touching you - kissing you.”

“Me too.” Ben says, like a blunt knife prodding at Callum’s heart. 

“Ben-”

“Don’t. Just - we’ve got some time together now, right? Let’s not ruin this too.” Ben says as he curls a hand around Callum’s neck and pulls him in, fast and just this side of desperate, and exhales sharply when their mouths come together. The kisses fizzle the anger and doubts between them. 

He raises his other arm to pull Callum closer, forgetting momentarily that he was leaning on it, and loses balance. They fall back on Callum’s bed, legs tangling together. 

When their mouths meet again Callum is the one who has to coax Ben’s tongue out of his mouth, tilting his head back and opening wider, nipping on Ben’s bottom lip. He gasps when they make contact, and Ben answers with a choked-off little moan, so deep Callum can feel it rumble in his chest.

They get worked up enough to take a break, pulling away gradually, but Ben never quite leaves Callum’s lips, showering them in pecks until Callum is giggling and all previous angst is long forgotten. There’s a tight coil arousal already settled in Ben’s stomach, spreading shocks of warmth over his skin and he can’t say he’s the least bit surprised. 

Above him, Callum looks gorgeous enough to be the sun. His hair, brushed flat and long, tickles Ben’s forehead where they’re millimetres apart and it makes Ben want to grab a good fistful - so that’s exactly what he does. 

He’s not rough by any means, running the tough hair through his fingers, scratching gently at Callum’s scalp. 

Callum lets out breathy laughs at the sensation, but immediately gives back as good as he gets. He tangles one hand in Ben’s hair and rests the other one on his waist. Feeling the span of Callum’s fingers, how big and heavy and warm his hand is, has him squirming in the sheets and lifting his hips off the bed.

“Ben,” he gets out through heavy breaths, and the fact that Ben affects Callum just as much as Callum affects him pleases Ben to no end. “Ben, I thought you were angry at me.“

“Oh, I am,” Ben replies with a sultry tilt of lips. “Trust me.” 

Callum pouts, but gives in to Ben’s games and ducks down for a kiss. “Guess I better make it up to you, hey?”

“Get on with it then, will ya,” Ben replies eventually, and lightens his insistent fingers in Callum’s hair, circling it round to cup at his cheek instead. 

Callum’s hand also makes a move then, it travels down from Ben’s hair to his hip to the top of his thigh. It feels - it feels amazing, hot - heavy and everything Ben can’t seem to find in anyone else. 

Ben tangles his fingers in the front of Callum’s shirt, his way of saying _hurry the fuck up._ The top two buttons are already undone, as always, and Ben slides his index finger down the opening until he gets to the third one. He holds Callum’s gaze when he slips it out of the buttonhole, and bites his lip when the shirt immediately slides lower on Callum’s shoulders.

In retaliation, Callum moves his hand to the outside of Ben’s leg and under, slides up until he’s squeezing Ben’s arse, and his cheeky smile barely registers because Ben is struck on how bloody good it feels.

He makes quick work on the rest of Callum’s buttons, and his throat goes bone dry when the shirt dutifully falls open. Ben has seen it all before, of course, but he’s not sure a naked Callum won’t ever make him feel like _this._

Ben reaches out to touch, runs his fingers over the hollow above Callum’s collarbone, the straining muscles of his shoulder. And then he feels a flicker of wet heat on his throat, a split second of what's to become, before Ben flattens his tongue against the sensitive spot of Callum’s pulse. He bites, a sharp, stinging pressure that bleeds into pleasure, before he swipes his tongue over the mark. 

Whilst Ben’s mouth is making work of Callum’s neck, a thumb flicks over his left nipple, experimental. He lets out a moan at the sensation, higher and breathier, and rocks his hips against Ben’s. Its entirely involuntary, Callum just can’t help but respond to the touch - _Ben’s touch._

“Oi,” Callum breathes when he can, “I thought I was supposed to be making it up to you?”

And Ben just bites his lip and grins.

“Oh you are - trust me,” he whispers, and drags his hand lazily to where Callum’s heart is close to beating out of his chest. “Go on then, work your magic, Highway,” Ben says and he loses all contact on Callum’s body, laying himself flat on the bed - Callum’s for the taking. 

_(Callum actually, physically shakes his head at Ben, and yeah, that’s become a regular occurrence over recent months)._

“C’mere and kiss me then,” Ben prompts, and then as sarcastic as ever, he adds: _“pretty please.”_

“Like you have to ask,” Callum murmurs, pulse thrumming, and dives in with lips parted. He uses the moment of distraction to stretch his leg and push against Ben’s thighs, trying to get him closer. Ben is unprepared for the momentum; his hands slide forward in the sheets, and he folds an arm around Callum's shoulder, pulling them chest to chest.

He’s got Ben’s hips between his legs now, their crotches lining up perfectly, and he can feel the half-hard outline of Ben’s dick against his; grinding down to tease him.

“Fuckin’ hell - are you trying to kill me?” Ben questions, but he makes no move to put the distance back between them. In response, Callum just reaches down and rucks up Ben’s t-shirt as far as it will go. 

“Get this off, _now_ .” Callum says, and just like that, the soft and shy boy the whole square are familiar with is replaced by this confident and wanting man. 

Ben removes his t-shirt, flinging it somewhere across the room - he really doesn’t care. They’re truly messy now, a tangle of tongues and saliva that makes Ben’s skin buzz with this exciting, now-familiar energy.

“Can I blow you?” Callum questions. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Ben huffs. “Yeah - God yeah”

Callum moans at that and almost subconsciously lets his legs tighten around Ben’s frame. One of his hands snakes in between them and starts poking at the button of Ben’s jeans, desperately trying to get it open. 

“You could’ve put some looser jeans on,” Callum complains, not being able to get Ben out of his jeans half as quick as he’d like to. He sits up between Ben’s legs and uses both his hands to pop the button open, then pulls down the zipper. 

“Finally,” Ben mumbles, as Callum rids him of his trousers. “Not sure it was all that complicated, mate.” 

“Not your mate,” Callum says, predictably. 

“Sorry, _loverboy,_ ” and yeah, that earns Ben a bite to his hipbone. 

Callum’s eyes darken when he briefly lifts his head before leaning back down and continuing his assault. He noses at Ben’s pelvis, _and lower,_ where he sucks a bruise into his inner thigh. Ben can already tell it’s going to hurt come morning, chafing against his jeans and reminding him for hours, maybe days, and it’s just about the most exciting thought he’s ever had.

He’s almost painfully hard now though, cock straining against the tight elastic of his boxers. He arches his back just a little, just enough to let Callum know where he wants him, and Callum huffs into his skin in response.

“Let me enjoy you, _bloody hell_ ,” he mumbles, still littering Ben’s thighs with kisses and bites, but he moves one of his hands to rest against Ben’s cock over the fabric of his boxers. He digs the heel of his palm in just a little, and Ben shudders down to the tips of his toes.

“Callum, come on,” Ben whines, _wrecked._

“Patience.” He replies, brushing another hand against Ben’s clothed crotch.

When Callum’s hands finally get to the waistband of his boxers, everything stills. Arousal coils inside Callum’s chest at the anticipation, and when he pulls the boxers down, it explodes.

Running a thumb through the precum gathering at the tip, Callum gives Ben’s dick a squeeze and it’s enough to have Ben moaning explicitly above him. He gets a hand back in Callum’s hair then, and it seems neither of them can wait any longer. 

Ben has about a nanosecond to catch his breath as Callum’s hot breath hits the head of his cock. He takes Ben in like he’s gagging for it, hot and wet and dangerously perfect; he sucks on the head first, hollow cheeks and obscenely red lips. The sight of him is very nearly enough to make Ben come there and then. 

It’s not though, thankfully. Because Callum’s peeling his mouth from Ben’s cock after just one taste. “Worth the wait?” Callum questions; and he’s nothing but a tease. 

“It will be if you stay down there for longer than three seconds, twat.”

And with that he’s gone again, face back between Ben’s legs and tongue dancing over the length of his cock in a perfect motion.

Ben tries to keep still and take it, latches onto the feeling and lets the buzz of it fill his veins. He doesn’t last long, though. He squirms, moans, shifts his hips, hot all over and still craves more; luckily it’s enough to get Callum lower, almost all the way down Ben’s cock before it hits the back of his throat. His tongue is flat against the underside, working the vein there in long licks that seem to be engineered specially to drive Ben crazy. He’s sweating now, sticky with it and probably soaking the sheets, and the muscles in his thighs are twitching without his permission.

““Jesus - fuck, Callum, you take it so well,” he moans, barely sounding like himself and at that Callum lifts his gaze, pulls off and grins, absolutely shameless about how much he’s enjoying himself. “Cal-”

God, he sounds fucking wrecked; helpless, even to his own ears.

“Hm?” Callum questions, cheeky grin in place, and sticks out his tongue to lap at the head of Ben’s cock. _The bloody git._ “I’ve got you.”

_And there's a tremble in his voice that tells Ben he's not alone, they're both in this too deep. Needing to keep each other afloat, same as always._

Callum gets a look of brand new determination in his eye, then; he pulls away, then opens his mouth wide and takes Ben as deep as he can. Through the mess of sensations that’s firing up his nerve endings, Ben feels, clear as day, the muscles of Callum’s throat relaxing as he goes lower _and lower still_ with a stubborn crease across his forehead.

Ben loses himself, can only vaguely register the nails digging into his thigh and the hand on the base of his cock. His breath gets caught in his throat, and stars explode in the darkness of the room as he comes down Callum’s throat. He bites his hand to stop the moans from spilling out, twisted in the sheets, and feels himself pulse against Callum’s tongue where he’s lying down and taking it, content to wait until Ben rides out the first wave of his orgasm.

He’s still twitching, still breathing in sync with the erratic beat of his heart, when Callum pulls off. Ben watches him through hazy eyes, admires his blurry features in the shadowed room, and sees him lick his lips, looking thoroughly satisfied. 

Callum touches at his lips then, they feel puffy, used and it’s everything he’s been wanting to feel all week. 

He doesn’t waste any time in moving up to meet Ben at the lips, kissing him deep and slow. Ben moans into his mouth, warm and too big for his skin. 

“So .. am I forgiven?” Callum asks, looking up at Ben.

“Hm, I’m not sure y’know..” Ben says, delivers it like a line that’s meant to play down this satisfaction, complete with a cheeky little grin.

Callum groans, _“Idiot,”_ he gets out, unable to stop the laugh that escapes his lips, and nuzzles under Ben’s chin. 

“I’ll let ya know - after I’ve repayed the favour, how does that sound?” Ben says, and Callum isn’t exactly going to say no, is he? Not when his hands are already on the waistband of Callum’s jeans, unbuttoning them in one swift movement.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @ dingletragedy on tumblr - come chat to me xx


End file.
